Imperfections
by Madame Rhea Di'Ey
Summary: He wishes she could see how beautiful she really is...no; he wishes he had the courage to show her how beautiful she is in his eyes. [NejiTen]


**Imperfect_ions_**

She's insecure, he knows, in spite of all the bravado and confidence she hides herself behind. The all-seeing (_yet so blind_) white Hyuuga eyes see things what others cannot (_yet often the meaning is lost on them...what a pity, what a pity_). They read people like they read open books (_it doesn't help their condescending, arrogant attitude_); and no one stands excused from that statement. To Neji's eyes, Tenten is not an exception, either.

He _**knows**_.

He knows how imperfect she thinks she is – on all aspects of view. He knows her courage is nearly zero when it comes to showing skin; she hates her body, says it's underdeveloped (_oh, but he saw, mind you; it isn't underdeveloped...__**at all**__). _How he wishes he had the nerve to reach up to her and let his heart guide him for once; to hold her in his arms and show her how beautiful her body, like all of her, is in his eyes. But, he doesn't, so he simply gives her a sad look she never notices whenever she's brushing off an invitation from the girls to go with them shopping for clothes or to the spa – although Sakura can be incredibly persistent (_he really has to find out how Hinata-sama convinced her to join the trio on their trip to the onsen_ – _must have been the puppy-eyes maneuver_).

He knows she's insecure about her hair; a million times she had wanted to cut it off, but always resisted the urge since her hair is the only thing reminding her of the one she used to call mother. He'd seen her let it down to cascade on her shoulders in the past; and he had loved the view. Wavy from being almost permanently in a bun, the perfect shade of chocolate – reaching down to nearly her mid-back. How he wishes he had the nerve to reach out to her and take a lock in his hands; to twirl it around his long, pale fingers, and enjoy the contrast the colors would make. To marvel at the softness of it and watch her face heat up when he'd say, "Your hair is beautiful, Tenten. You should let it down more." and make her stutter mindlessly. But, he doesn't, so he simply stiffens the urge to snatch her hair ties whenever they camp together on a mission and she's doing her hair in under three minutes in the morning after a restless night of too little sleep and too much paranoia that had made her keep watch.

He knows she's insecure about her tastes. That she feels like a misfit, masculine, for liking things most girls don't fancy. He wishes he had the nerve to to pinch her shoulder and whisper for her ears only, "And it's fine, because you aren't most girls. You're a brilliant kunoichi and there's no other who wields weapons better than you". But, he doesn't, and simply sits in a corner and watches her perfect her kenjutsu (_there's __**nothing **__left __to perfect, though) _as she spars with a clone of herself.

He wishes he could reach out to her and tell her how wonderful she is. How beautiful every single scar that mars her body (_and Kami knows they aren't few_) makes her be, even when they crisscross and make a detailed web across her hip, or back, or stomach. That he could kiss her knuckles, and tell her to stop comparing her hands to Sakura's – the pink-haired girl is a _medic ninja_ that hardly ever wields a kunai. It's a given hers wouldn't have callouses; Tenten is a weapon specialist. A master in the arts of blades. You cannot expect all the training and the weapons and the dirt to not leave trails behind. If anything, they are a proof of how hardworking she is. He wishes he could get her to wear a dress (_a yukata would mean he's pushing his luck_) and then take her out on a date, hair loose and bouncing on her shoulders.

He wishes his entire body could feel hers. That they could be one. That their imperfections and short-comings would mingle and compensate, creating a balance. Together, he's quite sure they would be perfect.

But he doesn't have the guts to tell her just how much she means to him. How beautiful all which she sees as ugly in herself actually is. But, he doesn't. The thought of rejection scares him far too much.

And he knows one day she'll belong to another that will see what he sees and have the courage to speak it aloud (_but nobody is worthy of her; nobody - perhaps not even him_). Until then, he's thanking the Gods he can at least lay his eyes on her and hope that one day she'll be his and all of his heart's wishes would come done. That she'll one day view herself the way he views her; a mortal goddess among men.

He keeps on hoping. Even if it's only a fool's dream.

_He never notices the love in her brown eyes._

* * *

**Author's** **Footnote**: I truthfully don't know where did this come out from. It just...did. I was trying to write the fifth chapter for my long-run fic and I just...ended up with _this_. And now I have NejiTen feels allover. ;.; *runs to Itachi for consolation*


End file.
